


for reasons (wretched & divine)

by oh_captain



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Brotp, Dragon!Scott, Gen, can be seen as gen or slash for sciles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_captain/pseuds/oh_captain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dragon ‘oh’ed before digging in his pocket and pulling out four coins, offering them up.</p><p>“This is all I have.” He announced, smiling like a ray of sunshine.</p><p>Stiles looked at the four coins, then to the dragons face, eyes glancing over the shimmering grey scales that glittered in the torch light, then back to the coins.</p><p>A silence stretched between them and slowly, the dragons hand fell down a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for reasons (wretched & divine)

Stiles gripped his sword tightly, unsure of what to do as he crept as silently as he could down the narrow cave’s hall towards the dragon's lair. His chain-mail clinked softly and his hitched breathing filled the tiny space making him wince.

He needed to do this. He needed to slay this stupid dragon and take as much treasure as he could. He would never win the hand of Lydia without it, and what was the point of living if he was restricted to stalking her his entire life. Sure, he bought her the best gifts for her birthday and he’d tried numerous times to ask for her hand (each time she said no meant he was that much closer to hearing a yes), and he paid attention to her every move, he was the perfect suitor for her, but it wasn’t enough. He knew what she really wanted.

So, he crept in, the smell of fire and ash, of smoke growing thicker as he got there, with the bright opening of the tunnel giving way to a larger room. He readied himself before bursting in to see a guy not much older than him, powder blue scales on his hands in patches, slowly moving up the color scale to white to his upper arm, where it gradually turned to grey on his shoulder, which were then obscured by a very worn tank top, though a slit exposed some silver scales on his chest. Tan skin was everywhere else, and an uneven jaw was also seemingly innocent. The wings were much like the body, starting at baby blue, climbing to white, turning grey and then silver.

Stiles blinked. There wasn’t much here, except a badly made bed (the frame not the sheets, those were done well enough, though they looked rugged), an equally badly made table, lopsided and barely balancing, and some fruit in a bowl. Two chairs, well made this time, sat near it and a book was resting on the nicely made sheets.

“What the hell?” Stiles looked to the surprised man, wide brown eyes meeting wide brown eyes.

“I think that’s my line,” the other guy said.

“No, no, still mine. I thought you were a dragon. Where’s your stupid treasure?” Stiles snapped.

The dragon ‘oh’ed before digging in his pocket and pulling out four coins, offering them up.

“This is all I have.” He announced, smiling like a ray of sunshine.

Stiles looked at the four coins, then to the dragons face, noticing the shimmering grey scales there, then back to the coins.

A silence stretched between them and slowly, the dragons hand fell down a bit.

“You were expecting more, weren’t you?” He winced, other hand coming to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. In the flickering light from one of the lanterns hanging around, you might think the dragon was blushing.

“Yes!” Stiles cried out. “You’re a dragon! You’re supposed to have riches!”

“Well, trust me, I love the idea of riches, but that’s a lot of power, and if I get too high up, the other dragons will get mad. Besides, I like where I am just fine, I don’t need money to define me.” He sniffed. “I’m Scott, by the way.”

“Scott.” Stiles repeated, sounding disbelieving. “What kind of dragon is named Scott?”

Scott sent him a hurt look. “You’ve insulted my treasure, and my name, what’s next?”

“Maybe your furniture.” Stiles looked pointedly to the bed.

Scott scowled. “My first visitor in three months happens to be a really big jerk.” He muttered as shoved his coins back in his pocket, and crossed his arms.

“Stiles, my name is Stiles.” He offered his hand to the pouting dragon. Scott.

Scott looked over to the hand then to Stiles dubiously before smiling a bit and taking his hand.

“First thing’s first.” Stiles started, releasing the warm hand after a second, and setting his sword down by the entrance, “I’m going to fix your table, and then your bed. Who taught you your woodwork?”

Lydia could wait, Stiles decided as he stripped the chain-mail clumsily and rolled up his sleeves to his shirt. Scott needed him a lot more.

“And then after that?” Scott asked, watching him inspect the measurements of the wood, and ignoring his last question. Stiles didn't have to know he taught himself.

“I’m going to help you get your treasure.” Stiles smiled over to him. “Every dragon needs his wealth.”

**Author's Note:**

> so dragon colors have meaning: white is purity, innocence, generally seen as a holy color or an omen of death, but in this case I just mean he's very pure of heart. then blue is more about nature, but they also are very highly protective and magical so that's why he's blue, and then grey is like wisdom or a nice helpful dragon that wont just squash you, and lastly silver is a strong connection to the moon and healing and what says scott better than the moon and healing? yes, stiles is a little creep   
>  title from jackie and wilson - hozier


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